The first rays of sunlight crept through the blinds, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. Aaron stood at the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee cradled between his hands, staring out the window at the quiet streets of the town. The world outside seemed to be going on as usual, but inside, everything felt different. The events of the past few days had left him feeling like he was standing on the edge of something—something uncertain, something he wasn't ready for.
It had been a few days since the brief encounter with Eliot at the bakery. Since then, the two of them hadn't crossed paths again. Aaron had tried to shake off the tension that had built up between them, but it lingered, settling deep in his chest. The way Eliot had looked at him, the way their fingers had brushed briefly when Aaron handed him the bread—it had all felt like more than just a casual exchange. And now, as Aaron stood there in his kitchen, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop thinking about Eliot.
The thought of seeing him again filled him with a strange mix of anticipation and fear. What if Eliot was just passing through, a brief encounter in the grand scheme of things? Or worse—what if he was someone Aaron couldn't ignore, someone who would leave a mark on him that he couldn't erase?
Aaron shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away. He didn't have time to dwell on it. The bakery was waiting for him, and there was work to be done. But even as he prepared himself for another busy day, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to change.
The bakery was unusually quiet when Aaron arrived. The morning rush hadn't started yet, and the soft hum of the oven was the only sound that filled the space. Aaron moved through his usual routine, adjusting the displays, checking the bread, preparing the pastries. But as he worked, he couldn't shake the sense of anticipation that hung in the air.
Then, just as he was arranging a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls on the counter, the bell above the door chimed. Aaron glanced up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw who had entered.
Eliot.
He stood there in the doorway, looking as calm and composed as always. His eyes met Aaron's, and for a moment, the air between them seemed to thicken, charged with something unspoken. Neither of them moved, the silence hanging heavy between them.
Aaron's breath caught in his throat. He wasn't sure what to say. He had rehearsed a dozen different greetings in his mind, but none of them felt right. What was there to say? He didn't want to pretend that everything was normal when it wasn't. The truth was, everything felt different now. And neither of them seemed ready to acknowledge it.
Finally, Eliot broke the silence.
"Morning," he said, his voice steady but with a faint trace of something deeper—something Aaron couldn't quite place.
"Morning," Aaron replied, his voice a little rougher than usual. He cleared his throat and forced himself to meet Eliot's gaze. "What can I get you today?"
Eliot's lips curled up slightly at the corners, his gaze lingering on Aaron for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll have the usual," he said, his voice almost too casual. "Rye bread. And maybe a couple of your pastries. Whatever looks good."
Aaron nodded, trying to steady his nerves. He moved to grab the rye bread, but his hands were shaking slightly. Was it nerves? Or was it something else, something more complicated?
As he prepared Eliot's order, he couldn't help but notice the way Eliot stood, watching him with an intensity that made Aaron feel like he was under a microscope. It wasn't uncomfortable—not exactly. But it was different from how people usually looked at him. There was something more in Eliot's gaze, something that made Aaron feel exposed.
"So," Eliot began, breaking the silence again. "How's the bakery business?"
Aaron glanced over his shoulder, surprised by the question. It wasn't something he'd expected Eliot to ask. "It's good," he said, trying to sound casual. "Busy in the mornings. But it's steady. Can't complain."
Eliot nodded, his eyes never leaving Aaron. "I can imagine. You always seem busy here. Running this place must take a lot of work."
"It does," Aaron agreed, focusing on the task at hand. "But it's worth it. I like what I do. I don't think I could do anything else."
Eliot raised an eyebrow. "Really? You never thought about doing something different?"
Aaron paused, momentarily caught off guard by the question. He'd never really thought about leaving the bakery. It was his life, his routine. It was stable. It was safe. "No," he said finally. "This place… it's home. I've always been here."
Eliot's eyes softened, just slightly. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, something Aaron couldn't quite understand. "I see," he said, his voice lowering slightly. "Sometimes it's hard to imagine that kind of stability. Not everyone gets that, you know."
Aaron looked at him, confused. Eliot's tone was different now, more vulnerable. "What do you mean?"
Eliot hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing," he said quickly, his usual calm returning. "Just thinking out loud."
Aaron didn't know what to make of it. There was something in Eliot's words that seemed like a hint, something more beneath the surface. But before he could ask, Eliot changed the subject again.
"Do you ever go out for drinks?" Eliot asked, his voice casual, but there was an underlying curiosity in the way he asked it.
Aaron blinked, surprised. "I—uh, I don't really drink much," he said. "I'm usually too busy with work."
Eliot nodded, his expression unreadable. "Fair enough. Just thought I'd ask."
Aaron finished wrapping up Eliot's order and placed it on the counter. Their fingers brushed again as Eliot took the package, and once more, Aaron felt that jolt of electricity shoot through him. He tried to ignore it, but it was becoming harder and harder to do so.
"Thanks," Eliot said, his voice low. "I'll see you around."
Aaron nodded, unable to find the words. "Yeah," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "See you."
Eliot turned and walked out, his presence lingering in the air long after he had left. Aaron stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, his mind racing. What had just happened? Why was everything between him and Eliot so… charged? There was an undeniable connection between them, something neither of them could ignore, but neither of them was willing to address it.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Aaron moved through his tasks mechanically, trying to focus on the routine that had always been his anchor. But the weight of Eliot's presence hung over him, the tension from their brief exchange gnawing at him like an unanswered question.
By the time the bakery quieted down, Aaron found himself standing behind the counter, staring out the window at the fading light of day. He couldn't stop thinking about what had transpired that morning. Eliot had been different—more open, more vulnerable, but also more distant. It was as if he had given Aaron a glimpse into something deeper, something he hadn't been ready to show.
But now that Aaron had seen it, he couldn't unsee it. And it left him with more questions than answers.
Why had Eliot seemed so guarded? What was it that made him pull away when Aaron had almost felt like they were on the verge of something? Was it something Aaron had done? Or was Eliot just… different? Was this just a fleeting connection, something that would fade with time?
Aaron couldn't answer those questions. But he knew one thing for sure: Eliot wasn't someone he could easily forget. There was something about him, something that made Aaron want to understand him, to break through that distance and discover what lay beneath.
But how? How could Aaron reach Eliot when every time he tried, it felt like Eliot was pulling away?
The rest of the evening passed in a quiet haze. As Aaron closed up the bakery for the night, the streets outside grew darker, the lights of the town flickering in the distance. He locked the door, took a deep breath, and let the quiet of the night settle over him.
But even in the silence, there was a gnawing feeling inside him—a feeling that told him the quiet between him and Eliot wasn't going to last. Something was going to change. He just didn't know what yet.
And that terrified him.